


Reborn For You

by KrazyKeke



Series: Female or Genderfluid Harry Potter Reincarnation [3]
Category: Dragon Ball, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Women, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Intersex Saiyans, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Canon, Saiyan Culture, Saiyans are a warrior race first and foremost, That's it, Turles is Bardock's son, its what dumb fandom culture I latched onto though of course, just kidding, lets not forget that though, that's the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyKeke/pseuds/KrazyKeke
Summary: Instead of Platform Nine and Three Quarters as his crossroads between life and death, Harry is brought to a different location, "rewarded" for amusing Death and given a final choice. He could go back to the Battle of Hogwarts and continue to be the world's savior or be reborn as the female Saiya-jin, Ringo. Once he hears her story, his heart makes the decision for him... Fem!Harry.
Relationships: Bardock/Gine (Dragon Ball), Harry Potter/Bardock, Ringo/Bardock
Series: Female or Genderfluid Harry Potter Reincarnation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914841
Kudos: 22





	1. I'm Not Alright

**Author's Note:**

> "If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?"

* * *

The truth of it was, he didn't want to die. In reality, what person did? Death was so...final. After all, the deceased didn't return to life to tell their loved ones how beautiful and peaceful Heaven was, and criminals or truly heinous individuals didn't regal others with tales of fire and brimstone from Hell. Did either place truly exist? And if they did, where was he going?

For so long, Harry had a dim view on himself. He was scrawny, with messy hair, too pale skin and glasses that were too big on his face, making his eyes stand out all the more, wearing cast-offs of Dudley's just made him look all the more pitiful.

No, the Dursley's never abused him, not in the physical sense but the emotional abuse was harsher than any hand and cut twice as deep. At least if they beat him, the wounds would be visible to others, maybe people wouldn't just think he was an impulsive fool who rushed into things without thinking anything through, maybe the adults would understand that he talked the loudest, fought the longest and the hardest just because he wanted to be heard.

He wanted to be understood.

Accepted.

As Harry accepted Voldemort's Avada Kedavra without even a bat of an eyelash, the young boy realized that it was never going to happen. There might be peace for a time, people might get on with their lives after grieving for their loved ones, but once the wizarding world recovered from what Voldemort subjected it to and backwater policies, politics, etc. there was no guarantee that the populace wouldn't call him to duty once again.

He did not want to follow in his father's footsteps, he did not want to be an Auror. He was tired of fighting. Tired of surviving. Tired of playing the role of hero. Of being a scapegoat. Of being the martyr. Of being the villain. He was just _tired_.

Wasn't that the definition of suicidal? He didn't feel that way. But he'd given up. So maybe he was just a coward instead, a quitter?

The last thought he had as his viridian gaze became eternally empty was:

'Will anyone remember me as I am? As I truly am...'

When he opened his eyes next, he found that he was flat on his back and all around him was white. Not fog, not wisps of smoke, but white, blinding, stark white. Sitting up gingerly, running his hands over his torso in a cursory once-over, Harry decided to stand. He didn't seem injured, but one could never be too sure...

"Hello?" Calling out with what he thought to be a tentative voice seemed loud, reverberating in his ears over and over. His voice. But others as well. Someone – many someone(s) – answered back, all at once, by themselves, together, individually? None of it made sense.

{The living are loud. Here at the Crossroads, all should be silent, if anything need be said at all.}

Hands were lightly placed on his shoulder and the voice, husky and undoubtedly feminine, a slight purr to the words, giving the tone a seductive edge, simply was in his mind. When turned around, Harry saw not a person, exactly. An entity, perhaps? Like the surroundings, the entity was purely white but around the edges were black, making an outline.

"The Cross-" A finger was placed against his lips. Or at least, he hoped it was a finger.

{Yes, the Crossroads. In every culture, there is a place of peace for those who are good, a place for the damned, for those who are lost. Very few manage to find the place that exists in the between of between.}

Harry's brow furrowed and he didn't try to speak again when the finger was removed from his lips, instead he tried to think at the entity. Since technically the thoughts popped in his head...

[The between of between? That makes no sense. I know of Heaven and Hell, Purgatory, but.]

Cocking its head in "approval", letting him know wordlessly that the message had been received so to speak, the being responded.

{Here is a place where Death has decided to reward those who entertained it.}

The pit of his stomach felt like it'd fell out. And then his heart sped up. Could he still die, even though technically he was already dead? Because if he could, truly, it was not looking good for him. Although he didn't really want to ask, he did so, reluctantly.

[Reward, how?]

A hand was placed on his shoulder, "squeezing" in reassurance and despite the fear and uncertainty, he found himself calming at the touch.

{I suppose I should start at the beginning. Technically, some of us are not dead. We are on the verge of dying. We can choose to let go indefinitely and move on through the Gate, being reborn as another person or even take the place of someone else and live a different life as that individual. For example, someone who was once male can become female and vice versa, a human could become what others label as an 'alien' and live on a totally different planet. Truthfully, that is where our ancestors come into play, I think, the soul is reborn over and over into a new body without memories of a past life, to make the transition easier. Though there are instances when Death leaves memories behind for a reason, for amusement or something of that ilk, most likely.}

The information overload was hurting his head and he held up a hand, a tell-tale gesture to 'stop', and with a "shrug", the being let him be for a time. As he slowly processed what had been said, Harry sat on the "floor" again, barely glancing at the entity as it mimicked him. To die and reborn again didn't sound all that great, but Death didn't seem to care about choices or free will, since his soul had been recycled over and over...

It was as if a light bulb went off over his head as he got it. Slowly, he turned to look at the entity. And he got the distinct impression the thing was looking back at him.

[You're me. Everything here...technically is _me_.]

Cocking it's head once again, the entity gave him a "thumbs-up" and would probably be grinning if it could.

{That's correct. I am you, you are me. We are one and nothing. Nothing but a soul that has existed since the Beginning. A Beginning no one remembers except for the Creator, the Father of all Fathers. To Remember is to bring pain, thus why He did the kind thing and we forgot, like everyone in the world, and the worlds beyond that.}

Harry's lips pulled into a frown and his brow furrowed with displeasure. None of this was making sense again.

[Just tell me plainly. Is there a way I can die, and permanently stay dead?]

At that moment, the entity was very clearly upset, angry almost. Or on the verge of anger. For a second he regretted asking.

{There is no way to truly say. I am what I think is your last life. If we both were to remain here long enough without going into the Gate, it'd end for both of us in our realities.}

It was so simple, matter of fact. Yet angry in its own way, bitter. If he could taste it in the air, it'd probably be similar to biting a coin to test it's genuineness, metallic and sharp, a shock to the senses. Harry ran a weary hand down his face. To doom someone else to death just because he was tired of life wasn't the way he'd expected dying for the entire wizarding world to be.

[Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your race. I'm not saying that I'm going to retract my decision, but if I weren't...what would I have to expect?]

A half-hearted shrug was given.

{If it is not clear enough to you yet, I am female. A female Saiya-jin to be correct; my people are a naturally aggressive warrior race. Since ancient times, we've lived a violent and 'inhumane' lifestyle to one such as you, attacking planets for wealth and goods. Our behavior and skill in battle eventually caught the eye of Lord Frieza, and he more or less contracted us into his employ, little more than mercenaries, we completely purge planets of life for him in order for them to be sold.

My species as a whole is divided into "Elite-class", "Middle-class" and "Lower-class" warriors, there are mainly "Low-class" warriors, about ten mid-class warriors, and even less Elites. The royal family, King Vegeta and Prince Vegeta are Elite. Nappa is the General of the Saiya-jin Army, as was his father before him and so on, so forth. I'm mid-class, but that is to be expected, since Elite warriors do not wish to be treated by Low-class Healers, and Low-class warriors often look down on how Elites carry themselves when they don't dare challenge Frieza for our permanent freedom of his tyranny. So at best, you could say it is a flawed society and system.}

Harry had listened without interruption and concluded that it was like, or possibly worse than the wizarding world, with Voldemort 2.0 waiting in the wings and in charge already. If he hadn't been, the society would not be a democracy but a monarchy, with the seat of power changing from son to son for generations amongst the Vegeta family and Saiya-jin would be sent out to _purge planets._

It was a good thing he was already sitting down.

[What about love? Families?]

The entity cocked its head. Seemed hesitant. And then dropped what might have been the biggest shock of the day there was.

{I have a son, Turles. He is my greatest accomplishment in this... _my_ world. Although the Saiya-jin philosophy frowns upon such a sentiment, if it were acceptable, if I could see him just one more time, if I could...There are many things I would say. I would apologize, for not being there, for not saying _that_ word to him, not once. Why must it...}

Harry's hands dug into his knees. This was just like he and his parents. He never knew them, had no recollection of them, this is how Turles would grow up and that was a fate he wouldn't wish on anyone. So that's why...that's why...

[...I'll do it. Tell me...I don't know...]

To her credit, the entity did not try to persuade him otherwise with false words of discouragement. Instead, only a single hand was outstretched towards his and as if guided by an unworldly force (which wouldn't be too surprising, he mused bitterly), Harry's hand followed suit, when their palms connected, a tingling sensation swept through him, from the elbow to his wrist, spreading rapidly.

Stark whiteness was replaced with color and for the first time since he arrived, he caught a glimpse of his other self? The female version of him? Thinking of the technical name made his head hurt so he gave up on that; still, he could admit that the woman in front of him was beautiful, strange and beautiful.

Black, shoulder length hair, wild and uncontrolled as his own locks possibly, thin eyebrows, mocha brown complexion, full pink lips, and cold gray eyes, eyes that assessed him just as much in return so he felt no shame as he really took her in. She was dressed in a revealing outfit that looked quite a lot like armor of some sort, a red tattoo, or birthmark, perhaps, was right above the valley of her breasts, a black choker around her throat, matching arm guards with gold outlining, and a brown...tail swishing behind her, similar to a feline's in some way, but more like a monkey's upon closer observation. The last thing he noticed was that she had two small tattoos underneath her right eye, tribal perhaps?

Harry had no time to ponder further as a door opened directly behind her. He could see her body, and boy wasn't that like deja vu, when she was right in front of him... Unable to stop himself, still guided by that otherworldly force, he took a step forward.

And another.

This repeated until he was an inch from entering.

{Thank you...Harry.}

Closing his eyes briefly, he pushed down the rising panic as he realized that this was happening. It was really happening. But when he opened them, suddenly, he just knew what to say. What he had to say. As if he'd said it before. Another time. Another place.

[I'll make sure to say that word to Turles when I see him...Ringo.]

And then, unbeknownst to each other, the two stepped through their respective doors at exactly the same time. Once they did so, the doors sealed up as if they'd never been and that world was bathed in darkness.


	2. Warriors Never Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Becoming fearless isn't the point. That's impossible. It's learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Talking" Normal speech
> 
> 'Insert witty comments' Thoughts
> 
> "No." Conjoined speech w/both past & present lives
> 
> "ta o wum potwof waf yam ta maya wut wum wure torku oy" Saiyan pronunciation w/o translation; jfklsjf xD

The point between being awake and unconscious is needle-thin. Floating aimlessly in a sea of darkness.

"...Ya yaluy, ap har ho. Yaw har kar! _Tar, yoyut aw_!"

'Where am I...? Who...is that?'

 **Pain**!

Body twisting, tightening in on itself defensively, the person attempted to move away from the horrible pressurized feeling. 'Why can't I speak? This...hurts. You're hurting me!' Eyes opened and shut weakly, only managing to catch a glimpse of bright, blinding blue all around.

'The world is blue...No...that's not right...'

There was a sharp stinging sensation originating from the cheek area.

"Mapama lu tam lep..."

'What? I can't understand you.'

" _Fasha_! Fasha, c-calm down. Ringo's already injured. You're only aggravating her wounds." Suddenly, the world tilted and a purple...thing is looking at her. "Follow my fingers. Thaaaaaaaaat's it. You're doing well. So well. I need you to keep focusing on me."

"Go' hi'?" Just saying that is extremely difficult. Something wet and coppery dribbled down her chin and belatedly, she realizes it to be blood. "G-Guhhh..." Face screwing up with agony as the purple thing is now in her space, touching her side gently. "Hu'ts."

"For you to admit that it is much worse than it appears." Shaking its bulbous purple head, it clicked its tongue. "Alright, Ringo. On three, Fasha and I will lift you up. It's going to hurt but bear with us and try to stay awake. It's very important." It stressed the words in certain areas and part of her wants to lash out at how she's being treated like a helpless infant...but she is helpless right now.

It's not a good feeling.

So reluctantly, she nodded.

"On three, Fasha." The short black-haired and violet-eyed female tightened her lips but nodded. "It's a small distance to the ship but there will be a lot of jostling. What's your solution for that, rome-Ezra?"

Her eyes skirted back to Ringo who let out a wet exhale.

"I have faith that your comrades will cover our retreat." The being commented in an absent tone. "Regardless of any way we move her, she'll be in pain. If we can get her into the rejuvenating tank fast enough, good. If not…" There didn't need to be an explanation of what would happen if she wasn't moved quickly.

"R'dy." Breathing shallowly through her mouth, Ringo reached out to Fasha who hooked her arm underneath the other's neck and shoulders, Ezra supported her thighs and back.

By some unspoken signal, both Fasha and Ezra started to move. Just as the former predicted, Ringo was in a lot of pain and there was so much jostling as they jogged to the space pods. Blood seeped onto the ground every three or four steps. Although Ringo wanted to clamp a hand onto her injured body, she did not. Her teeth were gritted together so hard that Fasha worried that they'd break underneath the strain.

"Next time, we charge together. Okay, tuye?" Carefully, they lowered Ringo, not on the ground exactly, but just enough that Ezra could get a hand free to punch in the code that unlocked the spaceship and they ducked inside. "Our combined might and fury will leave others standing in awe. We will be talked about for generations."

"Ha...ha...ha…" Ringo let out a wheezy laugh. "Good...plan…" Fasha forced a chuckle, managing to even sound halfway honest in her amusement. "The greatest of plans." Banter like this wasn't uncommon between the two of them and lasted much longer, so to hear Ringo stop, she glanced down at the other female, her pulse spiking with anxiety as she saw how fatigued Ringo truly was.

"In here." Ezra opened one of the rejuvenation tanks and the two of them gingerly placed Ringo inside. "You can rejoin the battle, you'll be of no use here."

Green-blue water started to fill the tank after he attached some electrode wires to Ringo's forehead and removed her armor quickly and efficiently, totally disinterested in her nudity.

"If she dies…" Fasha began to threaten.

"Then her true mate will be the one who has my head. Not you." Ezra interrupted her curtly, snorting as he caught her surprised expression before she quickly stifled it.

"Do you think me to be a fool? I have been in the employ of Lord Frieza for many years. Worked alongside Saiya-jins for twice as long. I know a mated pair when I see one. Though their bond is fragile and on the cusp of breaking, they are each other's bonded half."

Fasha eyed Ezra shrewdly and he stared back plainly.

After a second or so, she turned on her heel and strode from the room, "I'd think very carefully about who else I share that information with if I were you."

Ezra let out an explosive sigh. "Monkeys. Always spoiling for a fight…" he muttered under his breath. He locked in some more codes that would allow the tank to alert him immediately if Ringo's vitals were taking a steep turn and then left the room for a minute, walking down the corridor of the ship to the cleaning chamber to get a new uniform and more supplies, just in case.

Less than ten minutes later, a tall man with unkempt hair which partially stood on end, a scar on his left cheek, slightly darker skin, and sharp eyes entered the room. His brown monkey tail swishing gently behind him. "Ringo…" He reached out to touch the tank.

Ringo's eyelids opened a little bit, revealing the grey irises were unfocused and still a bit cloudy with pain. Then her eyes shut again. Someone was watching...Observing really. But the exact gender was hard to distinguish while feeling so weak. Whoever it was, they didn't feel hostile so she surrendered to oblivion, letting the tank's healing properties work on her body.

No one was there to bear witness to how her hand outstretched towards the male's unconsciously, mirroring his action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been updated on September 13, 2019, 1:43 A.M.
> 
> Information about the site where I created the Saiyan language will be found on it's own tumblr page.
> 
> If you don't feel like doing the legwork, I'll simply add translations at the end of every chapter.
> 
> (1): You die, so will we. You will live! Fight, damn it!
> 
> (2): Strength I give to you.
> 
> (3): doctor
> 
> (4): sister


	3. Girl With the Masked Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it's less good than the one you had before.

I've never had any close 'siblings' before I met Fasha and Gine.

After the death of Father's true mate, Yamma, a Low-class Saiyajin, and technician, he was quickly forced to marry a younger woman, even more exciting, according to Father's parents, she'd been born into a more influential family, fifth in line for the right to secure the title of her mother's business.

"Do not ever imply that my daughter is lesser than you and yours. If you can follow this simple mandate, I have faith that we'll get along fine."

"'Get along?', Escar-"

"This is _not_ a love match." Seeing the tiny flinch, Escar reached a hand out, carefully gripping her wrist and using his thumb to rub rhythmic circles into the skin. "It isn't. I'm sorry, Okara, if my or your parents implied that it would be."

"And you will not even try, will you?"

"I will try, but this pain…" Sighing, Escar met Okara's eyes evenly. "I can't explain it any better than the fact that it is crippling. Breath stealing. If I could lay in bed all day without eating, drinking, or fighting, I would." He ignored the tiny gasp the female accidentally let out, understanding what he didn't say. "I _would_ but I have obligations. Duty to my daughter and now you." Pulling his hand back, he ran it through his hair wearily. "I will not be dismissive or cruel to your own daughter and any children that we have later. I only ask that you respect that Ringo is, she is…"

"She is your daughter. Our daughter." Smiling at Escar's surprised and grateful look, Okara looked away. "I have been a tool for a long time. Used to climb the social ladder. None of my intended mates were as forthcoming or honest as you just now. Even fewer showed the slightest intention to want to treat my little one, Maiz, equally and fairly." Looking up at the sky, she smiled wistfully, "You are rather peculiar, Escar."

"Uh...thank..you?"

It wasn't for lack of trying on my siblings' part, especially big sister, Maiz. I just wasn't fit to be a part of the Courts and dealing with political intrigue, and all the mind games, or platitudes. I couldn't even find enjoyment in tinkering with machinery, which likely disappointed Father too, even though he insisted that it wasn't an issue.

But fighting? I was good at that. A prodigy. Tarro had already been drafted into the Elite squad of the Saiyajin army and pressuring Father to let me join up too. Father was leery of the suggestion, he didn't like how in just a short time, his normally easy-going son had become more boastful and scorning towards the Low-class branch. Mother, while sympathetic to a degree, didn't have quite enough empathy to really get offended by her son's change in philosophy towards 'the less fortunate'.

I probably would have just done whatever my parents decided, having been ambivalent about my future since I was old enough to recognize that most likely I would be married to a General or socialite. I would have been unhappy but I didn't see any other way around the situation.

Then the most shocking thing happened.

Father denied Tarro's wishes and instead had me enlisted in the Low-class division. I shared a room with Fasha and Gine with six other females. I didn't like any of them. However, when your commanding officer drops you off on a hostile planet with the only advice being to not die? Petty grudges get kicked off to the side. More than half of us died in under an hour, two survived; Fasha, Gine, and I banded together. The next day, the survivors were picked up and dropped off home again. New recruits were brought in for another few years, most of them died.

After the fourth year, we were finally deemed ready to join our own team. Gine had been hinting that she wanted to leave the Army and join the technical crew for awhile. Fasha kept urging her to tough it out with us, to stop being a wimp. I tried to stay out of their arguments as much as possible even though part of me agreed with Fasha.

So we stayed together another year.

The first assignment we had together went pear-shaped and a veteran squad was sent as part of clean up and body retrieval.

That's when I met him. Bardock.

Years of being completely disinterested in posturing males and females, but everything inside of me was intensely drawn to him.

He was lethal, raw. Dangerous. But also, strangely graceful.

And wholly unimpressed with us because he had to save Gine.

I tried to fight the attraction. Especially since Gine clearly desired him too, even though my instincts demanded that I put her in her place. The higher-ups liked how well we worked together and when Gine dropped out of the Army, Fasha and I were inducted into Bardock's growing team.

"Why do you do that?"

Tossing the dead body to the side, Ringo glanced back to see that it was Bardock. "Do what, sir?" Trying to ignore him in hopes of completing the self-appointed task.

"Speak to me as if you hate me." Ringo winced but he couldn't see it, thankfully. "But your body is sending me a completely different signal. And it's messing up the team dynamics. So just get it out of your system."

Snorting, she shook her head, "Funny, but no one has complained about this to me." When she was forcefully yanked around to face Bardock, Ringo attempted to glare. His scent was clouding her ability to think, he was a head taller than her, making her feel not trapped, exactly...

"Your indecisive behavior is bothering _me_." Leaning closer, Bardock deliberately sniffed at the area of her neck. Against her will, Ringo felt her face flush. "Don't you ever get tired of that self-control of yours? Of never going after what you want? Or is it the class difference that holds you back?" Opening and closing her mouth, eventually, Ringo just shook her head, eyes glazed over with want. Bardock nuzzled her neck area, using one hand to touch and caress the skin not protected by her battle armor. "Let me have you." He pressed against her, blatant with his wants, and Ringo can't even tease him as her leg wound around his waist just as quickly, clutching him to her as she murmured her surrender.

"Lekwuy…"

I can't really regret what happened between Bardock and I. The truth of Turles' paternity is known only to Fasha and Tarro. Father was upset that I refused to let him know the child's father but with Turles being a Low-class Saiyjin, he couldn't justify keeping the baby with the rest of the family. Sometimes I see the boy, occasionally we spar and have an awkward conversation until the time he goes out to purge planets.

I never tell him that I'm proud of him, or that I love him.

Words like that I took for granted growing up.

I wonder if he hates me and then I accept that I would deserve it.

/Healing complete. Status: Functional./

The voice sounded slightly mechanical, like one of those computer programs from Dudley's favorite TV show, the Avengers. What is the technical term again? Artificial Intelligence? An AI?

Whatever that was of no use now.

Eyelids feeling heavy, nevertheless, Ringo was determined. Glancing around through wet lashes, with weak fingers, she reached up to pull the electrode wires from her forehead which monitors her brainwaves and alerted the person in charge of abnormalities. The green water, with it's healing properties, slowly drained from the tank, leaving her naked and chilled, but also still terribly weak.

'Stand up straight.' Leaning heavily against the glass, Ringo willed her body to listen to her mind's commands. It took a few tries before she could let go of the one thing holding her up and she had to find her balance to avoid bashing her head on the floor(?) when a wave of vertigo almost sent her to her knees. 'You are stronger than this. Now get up.'

The glass tube let out a grinding noise as it lowered. Freeing her.

Ringo took one step. Wobbled like a newborn fowl finding it's footing for the first time. Another staggering step before she was slowly straightening her back.

...Five, six, seven, eight, yaay! You're doing so well, Harry. How many planets are in the universe, Ringo?

"Nnngh…" Pain lanced through her as she jabbed her side into something sharp but she continued her stride forward, pressing her hand onto the keypad on the right-hand side, and there was a slight hissing before the doorway opened.

"You're in no condition to be up." Fasha chided. "I swear, you do this every time after being in the rejuvenation tank for a while." With a firm hand, the other female half dragged, half carried her friend back into the room, dropping her into a seat. "You're not even decent."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be better." Bustling around the room, she eventually found something for Ringo to wear. The material was flimsy, almost like water between her fingertips. "...Need help getting it on, huh? You got a hard blow to the head. rome-Ezra said you might be unsteady for a few days."

Giving her a grateful look, Ringo refrained from nodding as the motion might make her sick. "We did manage to get the idiots who caught me off guard? Purged the planet just like Lord Frieza wanted?"

"It might fetch 2000 yuane." There was dark amusement in Fasha's voice. "Bardock and Tora became a bit...enthusiastic when you went down." Ringo let out a dry sound that could pass for a laugh. "Frieza didn't seem upset, regardless. So don't worry about it so much, okay?" Waiting until Ringo nodded, Fasha half helped her stand. "If you're up for it, you have people wanting to see you."

"Give me a hint."

"It's a surprise."

"Now you're just holding it against me that you know something that I don't."

Fasha's laughter is low pitched and theatrically sinister so Ringo isn't too worried, until…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuane: A form of currency.
> 
> 2000 yuane is roughly about two hundred dollars in human terminology.
> 
> (1): Mine (possessive)
> 
> This chapter has been updated September 13, 2019 11:48 PM


	4. Unbreakable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart.

Ringo blinked.

There stood her progeny, Turles. He leaned against the wall behind him, his brown tail coiled tightly around the waist. Eyes closed and seemingly in a meditative state, or at the least, ignoring his surroundings. His arms were crossed across his chest and his mouth was turned down at the corners. With the lingering remnants of...of her past self's memories entangling with her own, confusing her for a moment, she mused that if he were human, his entire posture would scream that he was defensive and looking for answers.

However, neither he nor she were human, and while some gestures and behaviors were identical, it was only coincidence.

For several minutes, there's only silence.

"Turles finished his purge assignment on Planet Strudoter located in the north east section of the VJ-068 Galaxy today." Fasha chose to speak up since it's clear that neither her closest friend or her friend's child are going to say anything to each other and the silence was beginning to feel a bit awkward and oppressive.

Startled, she glanced at the boy who stared back at her evenly. "You did?" The words left her mouth a bit breathlessly and Turles frowned minutely before returning to it's impassive state once again.

"I know some of the others think that Low class warriors are only good as mere cannon fodder," It took everything she had not to wince at the blaise way he uttered those words. "But I refuse to die for nothing. Not until…"

"...Until?" Ringo raised an eyebrow, encouraging him silently to continue his train of thought.

His gaze flicked to the side where Fasha stood, as if he were asking permission, and Ringo tried not to feel jealous, really, she did. Then he glanced back again, to her, and she quickly schooled her face into neutrality.

Turles shook his head slowly, "Nothing, it's irrelevant."

Disappointed but inwardly coaching restraint, Ringo merely nodded.

Breathing in deep, she took a couple steps forward, into his personal space. Not quite invading it, not technically. Her hand raised slowly and there's a flicker of something in his gaze that nearly made her want to stop completely but then it's too late.

Her hand is on his shoulder, grasping it firmly.

Turles looked at her, mouth opening to inquire what she thought she was doing.

"I'm proud of you."

Features going slack, he looked at her, dumbfounded. "I…"

All too aware that she hadn't ever said such a thing to him in his life and that this was really out of character for her, Ringo merely shook her head, wanting to smile but her face muscles wasn't trained for that and she merely ended up with a half smirk, clapping him on the shoulder twice firmly.

Hugging would be too much and an altogether too...alien for Saiya-jins in general. Just this was affectionate enough, they weren't Tuffles after all.

Letting her hand fall and stepping back, she glanced at Fasha who looked torn between pride and confusion. "You really did hit your head pretty hard…"

'You have no idea…' Ringo wondered what the other woman would think about the fact that she'd died. There was a snort and she glanced at Turles whose hand covered his mouth, he looked mortified at being caught out.

Glancing at Fasha to see the woman staring at him too, looking incredulous.

That did it and Ringo laughed and Turles joined in, and finally, cautiously, Fasha did too though it was clear she had no clue why they were laughing.

Really, truthfully, she had no concrete plan about what to do with this new lease on life and she'd have to figure it out. Soon, she would, she'd have to, but for now, she'd just enjoy this moment. Something deep in her gut told her that there would be few of them like it going forward.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to do a revamped version of my original Bardock/Harry story, only with fem!Harry. Normally, I don't do that. But I did. Because, I hear a lot that Turles looks exactly like Goku and after watching him, I've gotta admit, this is true. So my insane brain jumped on the bandwagon that they are actually half brothers...and fem!Harry, or Ringo, as she will be called from now on, is his mother, so yes, Bardock and Ringo had a torrid affair before he got with Goku's mom, Gine. I won't give away everything as that'd be majorly spoilery, but I think this has the potential to shock many people...and make them happy, hopefully.
> 
> Read and review please *hugs and kisses*
> 
> Ringo: Japanese name for the fruit, apple.
> 
> The cover image, Azuki, belong to SChan on DeviantArt. In no way, shape or form, do I own said image, but I have her permission to use her for this story.


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